


Sacrifices 7

by evieplease



Category: Tom Hiddleston RPF
Genre: Cardiac, F/M, Physical Abuse, Red Carpet, Scotland, Verbal Abuse, abusive boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5696680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieplease/pseuds/evieplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melissa meets Tom on the Red Carpet.  Mayhem ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifices 7

I knelt over my roller bag naked after our shower, pulling the zip open, curious to see what Tom had packed for me.

"Now let's see what Mr. Hiddleston, Trendsetter, thinks is appropriate women's wear for slaying dragons in suburban Edinburgh in the Spring..." I glanced back at Tom. He had the most peculiar look on his face as he stood and watched me open my case.

I lifted the top and stared down into my bag, my mouth falling open. All my best, prettiest lingerie sets- the pink, the sheer black, the turquoise, and the plum, are there. Ok, then. The man likes colour, I reckon. My only pair of sky-high fuck me shoes. And one, two, three men's dress shirts that don't actually belong to me. And oddly, the ratty old blue jumper that I'd been wearing the night I met him. I blinked into the case, and lifted out one of the shirts, sat back on my heels, and just...had to laugh.

This man... He moves from dead serious to laughing and teasing, to boyish charm and anxious to please and back again in a way that is just...utterly fascinating. It's ridiculously fun. And very endearing.

I dragged my eyes up to Tom, where he stood with a naughty little smile, and looking a little smug. He dropped the belt that he'd been about the string through the loops on his jeans onto the bed, as I held the shirt and shoes up to him.

"Are you quite sure you want me prancing about in front of your dad in this, Tom? I think I can just about guarantee that neither you nor Felicia will be pleased with the results...not to mention the nurses and his cardiologist!"

Tom took the few necessary steps to reach me, and pulled me into his arms, grinning down at me.

"Did you just threaten to cuckhold me with my own father, little girl?" he growled. His eyes laughed at me, with something stronger than mischief. 

"Although..." a thought struck him, "that would be one way to distract Felicia and get her off my back..." His eyes drifted to the wall over my shoulder, the very picture of a man in deep thought, eyes going distant. I smirked and shook my head. Little fucker.

"Oh no, uh uh! One Hiddleston man at a time is more than enough, thank you too much!"

I did my best to copy his thoughtful pose, and tapped a finger on my lip, tipping my head to the side.

"Although..." I pursed my lips, "I suppose certain sacrifices might need to be made..."

Tom laughed. "On second thought, I believe I'll keep you for myself!"

"In that case, Tom, you'd better have something more for me to wear! So..." I ran a finger over my collarbone, "what am I wearing this evening, Tom? I'll just let you choose, shall I?" I watched him steadily with a small smile, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

I strolled over to the end of the bed, sat my bare arse down, crossed my legs, and folded my hands demurely on my knee. I straightened my back, shook my hair over my shoulder and waited attentively.

Tom put his hands on his hips and surveyed me, rolling his tongue in his cheek. His lips twitched.

"Well, it's a bit chilly for my first choice in outfits," he said with regret as he eyed my deshabille. He reached out and ticked a finger over my left nipple meditatively. Pursing his lips, Tom moved over to my case and crouched, stirring the meager contents with a long interested finger. Glancing up at me briefly, he ruminated carefully, rubbing his chin, the sound of his fingers rasping against his scruff loud in the quiet room.

He looks so serious! He's putting a lot of work into this scene. Damn, he's good. I'm starting to comprehend just how good. I shivered. 

The man is seduction on legs.

Coming to an obviously Very Important Decision, Tom selected my turquoise lingerie, crossed the floor and extended a hand, helping me stand. Then he went down on his knee, brushed a kiss across my knuckles and placed my hand on his shoulder. Lifting my ankle...slipping the knickers over my foot. He did the same with the other foot, and slid them up my legs, settling them around my hips, fastidiously tweaking and pulling the fabric to make sure it was smooth against my skin. Humming to himself. 'Someday My Prince Will Come'?? Christ, Prince Charming is kneeling at my feet, treating my knickers as if he were trying a glass slipper on my foot.

Tom is clearly enjoying his little game. What the hell, why not? He stood and picked up my bra, slipping the straps over my ams, and reaching around to my back to fasten it. He fumbled for a moment and chuckled. Pulling me up against his body, he craned his head over my shoulder to see that he was doing. Oh look, he has a triangle of freckles...

"Christ, Hiddleston!" I blurted, "promise me you'll never reprise this scene on film... You're killing me here."

"Why should I do that?" He asked innocently.

"Are you kidding me?" I leaned back a bit, twisting my head to see him. “It would be the hottest piece of porn selling on the Internet..."

Tom's eyes widened for a split second before he burst into laughter.

"Darling, did I tell you that I adore your sense of humor?" He squeezed me hard. "You continually surprise me. I find it very sexy.." he murmured into the skin of my neck. Oh. I sighed, loving the feel of his tongue licking that place under my ear as his fingers brushed just over my collarbones.

Then his attention was snagged by the trouble with my bra that had started this whole diversion. 

"It's an entirely different proposition, putting the thing on, rather than removing it, isn't it? He rumbled in my ear.

"Mm," I sent him a saucy grin. "Would you like a lesson in the proper way to put on a brassiere, Mr. Hiddleston? You never know when a skill might come in handy..."

Tom promptly slipped my bra off my arms and offered it to me, pulling me to a stand and taking my seat on the bed.

"Go on then." He encouraged me, his eyes challenging. "Better take it a bit at a time, I'm a slow learner..." he directed.

I stepped back to give him the full view. Why does putting on my bra for him feel kinky as hell? I wrapped the band around my waist, the hooks in front and watched my fingers delicately latch each hook, then with slow deliberation slid the clasp behind me. 

I watched Tom watch me, his head cocked to one side and his lower lip between his teeth. Such is his attention that I can nearly feel the brush of his eyes over the skin of my breasts. My nipples drew up into hard points, because that's that they do when Tom looks at me.

I pulled one strap up over my arm, rolling my shoulder to situate it, and started the other strap over the other arm. Tom's long fingers reached out and fixed a twisted bit, then drifted down to palm my breast, looking softly into my face as he caressed the pebbled skin, before dropping his hand onto his thigh and clenching it there. 

I pulled the shoulder strap into place, and bent forward, staring into his face, my breasts fallen free and dangling. That lip is back between his teeth, and I can see his hands twitch as if he was restraining himself from reaching out again. I lifted one breast and slipped it into its cup comfortably, repeating the maneuver for the other, and the shimmied my shoulders slightly to settle them. I stood with a small smile as I watched him adjust his jeans.

He blew out a breath and tore his gaze away from my turquoise covered breasts to look into my face.

"Melissa love, you are a revelation." He leaned forward and grasped my hips, pulling me between his thighs and dipping his head to plant a kiss on my belly.

Naturally my stomach chose that moment to growl loudly under his lips. Tom laughed against the skin of my belly, pushed me back and stood.

"Let's get you dressed and put something in there to quiet the beast. I expect all that noise would be quite distracting” Tom moved quickly to his own case and extracted my 'little black dress', the knit fortunately unwrinkled.

"Arms up!" He murmured, and slipped it over my head, directing my hands through the tight three quarter-length sleeves, settling it on my shoulders and pulling the zip up. He slid his hands down my body, smoothing the dress into place over my hips. He stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. He glanced at my fuck-me heels with regret.

"I had planned a leisurely stroll to the restaurant, it's not far, but I'm sure those shoes would be a torturous impracticality over the distance. And since I'm not feeling particularly vindictive," he pursed his lips, "wear the flats that you wore today.

I shrugged. That's fine with me. Fuck-me shoes really are the most horrible shoes to walk in. And I've already demonstrated a regrettable inability to keep to my feet when I'm near him. I went back into the bath to repair my make-up and do something with my hair. Naturally Tom hadn't brought any of my hair styling tools. I sighed. Why would he think of it? His hair is cut so short, he only needs to run a bit of product and his fingers through it and he's done. Well, there's no help for it. I brushed my hair straight and let it fall over my shoulders.

***

We were seated in a very nice dining room, the air redolent of good Italian spices. Tom was tasting the wine and nodding at the waiter in consent when his mobile rang.

'Ding dong the witch is dead'. Well, hell. That'll bring his mood down. Tom's head jerked up and he stared at me with wide eyes, fishing in his pocket for his mobile.

"Do you mind, darling? It's Felicia. My Dad..."

"Of course I don't mind!" I could see the skin around Tom's eyes tighten with the same flash of worry that I felt.

He swiped the call open and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Felicia. Is Dad alright? What can I do for you?"

He sounds politely inquisitive, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He winced a bit, almost as if expecting a blow. I watched his face anxiously.

I could vaguely hear her replying, but I could discern nothing of her words or tone.

Tom's eyebrows suddenly shot skyward in surprise as he listened.

"No...of course...ok," his brows drew down and he paused listening. Then he broke in, interrupting her in full flow apparently.

"It's going to be fine, Felicia. Take a breath...no really, Felicia, we'll get this figured out...yes," he said patiently, "yes, I'll help." His tone deepened. "Now. What do you need tonight? ... Are you sure?... Alright, call me if that changes... What time do you need me tomorrow?... Ok, half ten in the morning. Right. I'll pick you up, shall I?... Of course it's no trouble, Felicia... I'm glad you called... Yes, I'll see you then." He nodded and clicked off, setting the mobile down on the table  
and blowing out a breath.

"Is everything ok?" I enquired a little anxiously. It sounded like James had done his job a little too well, getting Felicia stirred up enough to ask Tom for help.

"Hmm. Yes, I think so." He looked a bit bemused. "It seems Felicia is a bit...frantic about Dad coming home tomorrow. She's worried herself into a state. I've said I'll help her fetch him home in the morning. You don't mind, do you, darling?" He looked a little worried.

"Of course I don't mind! Seriously, Tom, you don't have to dance attendance on me!" I chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that's my job! What can I do to help?"

Tom set his hand on mine and squeezed lightly, looking relieved.

"Thank you, Melissa. I don't guess there's anything that we need to do tonight." He shook his head. "We'll see what needs to be done tomorrow." He grimaced. "I just might set you to brewing tea and keeping Felicia calm and out of my hair. I can’t believe..." His eyes went a little distant. "She's never been anything less than prim and collected with me. I can honestly say that this is the first time she's ever let the mask slip. It's a little...disconcerting, to tell you the truth."

"Ah, the Ice Queen melts?"

He smiled at me. "One can only hope.”


End file.
